I am not sure whether I have recounted the story of the old man and his very large bath. By that I mean when I was on holiday in Lahinch in the West of Ireland I had an apartment on the promenade. Every morning as I took in the wonderful view of the Atlantic, I would spot a man who was in his eighties if he was a day. He would strip off to his undies by the rocks and walk out into the ocean clutching a plastic bag. When he reached the surf he would extract soap & shampoo from said bag and have a wash in the largest bath in the world. He would walk back after his ablutions and dry himself off, get dressed and wander off. This was a daily occurrence.
However that set me thinking.
Certain old men prefer to rise at dawn, taking a cold bath and a long walk with an empty stomach and otherwise mortifying the flesh. They then point with pride to these practices as the cause of their sturdy health and ripe years; the truth being that they are hearty and old, not because of their habits, but in spite of them. The reason we find only robust persons doing this thing is that it has killed all the others who have tried it.
I will give it a miss.
